


where do we go from here?

by juliaaubrey



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Book Spoilers, Boys In Love, Kissing, M/M, WS spoilers, boys in love who are absolutely shit at communication, break up fic??????, don't read if you haven't read WS, like a lot a lot of angst, lol i almost cried writing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 19:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21166994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliaaubrey/pseuds/juliaaubrey
Summary: I can’t make him mine. I can’t take away his sadness, I can’t fix him. In a way, I knew it would all end like this. With both of us on the opposite sides of a line, whether or not we should be.There’s a fine line between love and hate.I can’t make him love me...You were the sun, and I was crashing into you...I would wake up every day and think, this will end in flames…I choose you, Simon Snow. I chose you once, and I won’t stop choosing you, even if you don’t choose me.I choose you.





	where do we go from here?

_ Simon _

The water laps at my ankles, and a heavy weight settles in my stomach. The hot, mid-afternoon sun beams mercilessly down on me. The impact of the last days has finally hit, and I let my head go, staring up at the sky. Cloudless. Blue, for miles in every direction. The air is different in America. Denser, less clean. Taking a deep breath feels like inhaling a bucket of smoke down and into my lungs. In a way, it reminds me of my magic. Of what I once was. All smoke and fire, brimstone. It stings my throat, and momentarily, it feels like I could let my magic go. 

_ If _I still had magic. 

I inhale again, relishing in the familiar burn. Smoke feels like home, it feels like something that I’m used to.   
America should’ve been _ it. _ It should’ve taken away the emptiness in my chest cavity, it should’ve washed my wounds clean. It should’ve _ mended _ me. I came here, looking for a cure. A cure to erase the past, a cure to take away the sense of uselessness that’s buried its way into every inch of my being. The old Simon would’ve _ hated _ the person I’ve let myself become.   
I stare out at the waves. Blue upon blue; they blend into the sky that’s now streaked with crimson and magenta. The sun burns less against my skin, and my ankles are beginning to dry. The breeze blows through my hair.   
Instinct tells me to run. To turn away from this beach, from this state, and to just _ run. _ To let my wings lift me up above the ground, and to just let myself go whichever way the wind blows me.   
I have more to experience. More to see, more to live through. There _ must _ be something out there for me, besides sitting on my sofa, drinking cider and watching Baz’s pitiful stare.   
Baz.   
He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves someone better than me; he deserves someone who’s not as breakable and fragile as I’ve become. He’s so much more than he thinks he is; he’s strong, he’s powerful, he’s _ magic _ at his core. Sometimes. I think that he’s too invested in trying to stitch the pieces of me back together again.   
He’s too good for me. He’s everything that I’m not; he’s everything that I _ was _ . I think that’s what hurts the most. Baz is everything that I was, just...more refined. Less disastrous than I ever was, though. More put together and steady on his feet. God, _ nothing _ could waver Baz at Watford. He was always a force. Here, in America, was one of the only times that I saw Baz stumble. It was unnerving, seeing him like that. I saw more of myself in him, here, than I ever did when we were at school.   
Despite all of this, I saw how he acted with Lamb. Like he _ belonged _ here. He fit in with the vampires. For Crowley’s sake, he _ is _ a vampire. He should  
be here, and not back in London, with a defective boyfriend and his best friend.   
Baz could be so much more than he’s letting himself be. He doesn’t belong with me; not the way I am now. Maybe he did once. When we matched. When we were both brimming with magic, when I thought I was invincible. When the world wasn’t caving in and crackling at the edges.   
I’m not that Simon anymore. I won’t be again. I’m not meant to be a chosen one, I’m not meant to be a prophecy. I’m normal. Normal, normal. There isn’t anything about me that’s worth hanging onto. I don’t know why Baz can’t understand that.   
He should be happy. I don’t think I could give him happy. At least, not the happiness that he deserves. 

Baz once told me that I was an enigma. And I believed him, as he whispered the word into my hair one night. As he kissed me as if his life depended on it; as if the world was crumbling around us and he needed my air to survive. 

A month ago, I would’ve completely forgot that had happened. Six months, and it would’ve been the only thing I let myself think about. 

America was like a blind force that knocked me down, over and over again. I fought as if I was still made of magic, as if I was still _ Simon Snow, The Chosen One. _

Being in America has felt as if our lives were suspended, and floating in thin air. I kept on waiting for the other shoe to drop, for a pin to be stuck in our little bubble. 

_ Have a little faith in me, Snow. _

A wave crashes over my shins and hits my knees, and I can’t help but smile. Heady giddiness fills my chest, and I laugh, in spite of everything. It feels good. It feels new, it feels like fresh air entering my lungs, and for the first time in ages, I don’t feel contaminated. 

I close my eyes, and let the cool water wash up over my skin, and I imagine the toxicity draining out of me and into the ocean. 

I laugh again. I feel clean. I feel like I’ve been scrubbed raw; I think I can feel my skin tingling. The saltwater is soft on my legs. In the moment, even though I’ve lost my magic, I feel like I’m limitless. 

California could be my home. I could get used to the constant heat, I could get used to saltwater in the air. I could get a job, make a living for myself. I could earn something without other people standing behind me, holding me up. 

Even though this is the most thought I’ve ever had about my future, the sheer possibility _ of _possibility is thrilling, and I grin. 

I could finally take my life back. The superhero part of me isn’t here anymore, and even though I don’t want to accept it, I don’t really have a choice. 

I’ll miss feeling the sparks dance on my skin. I’ll miss the supernova in my chest, and I’ll miss the feeling of holding enough magic inside of me to fill an entire ocean. I’ll miss the feeling of being apart of something bigger than myself. 

But, I don’t need magic. A year ago, I would’ve thought that I do. Even two weeks ago, just days before we left for America, I would’ve thought I needed it to fill the void that filled my chest. 

Being a part of the magic world was one of the most insane and otherworldly adventures I think I’ll ever experience. 

_ But it isn’t meant for me, and that’s alright. _

_ Baz _

I walk down the shore, barefoot. The sun is setting; and it makes Simon’s curls look like they’re on fire. 

Waves rush up over his legs, and he tips his head back, towards the sky. I think he might be smiling, and I stop. The sunlight catches on his hair. There’s a warm breeze, and it lifts the hair off the back of my neck. 

Simon looks back at me over his shoulder, and his eyes are bright. He smiles. 

“Hi,” he says, looking back towards the sea. 

“Hey,” I reply, the word light. It sounds like me, but different. Brighter. 

Simon laughs as water washes up over his legs, and from my spot above him on higher ground, I grin.

America has been exhausting in innumerable ways, but sitting out here, on the warm sand and the ocean breeze, I feel a little less worried about what could happen once we get back to England. 

Honestly, I wouldn’t be all that surprised if Simon pulled the plug on our…

Well. Whatever we have. It’s been draining for the both of us, all of this pushing and pulling, all of the uncertainty. 

It’s definitely not healthy, and I’m not sure how much room I have left inside of me to hold it. 

America slowed the burn temporarily, but still. Those few and far between moments with Simon, the moments that he gives me and that he lets me have, are starting to feel less and less substantial. 

_ Being hopelessly in love with him won’t save him. _

I’m not even sure if Simon needs me the way that I need him. He’s always been the kind of person to barrel through life, without leaning against other people for support. Sure, he’s had Bunce, of course. She’s always stuck to Simon as if she couldn’t bear not to. Besides her, he had - _ has - _me. 

Crowley, he has me. I think he always will, in one way or another. There won’t be another person who I’ll love as much as him, who I’ll let as close to me as I let Simon. 

_ He’s irreplaceable. _

There isn’t a soul on this Earth who could ever hold a candle to Simon Snow. He’s indelible. 

I used to think that we were invincible, that nothing could hurt us. 

As we’re sitting on the sand, with the late afternoon sun shining down and the sound of the waves hitting the shoreline, I understand for the first time that we aren’t. 

We’re just boys. We aren’t infallible, we aren’t untouchable. 

I look at Simon. His jeans are rolled up above his ankles, and his hair is a halo of bronze. Merlin, he’s beautiful. I swear that America has done something to him; he looks different somehow. His skin has tanned, but his moles are still visible, and the shift makes his blue eyes seem even brighter than normal. The constant sun has done him good; he shines brighter than he does back home. England is too dark for somebody like Simon. He’s drawn in more vibrant lines than anyone else there. Here, he fits in. He matches the sand, and the sun, and the vast blue of the sky that goes on for miles up above. 

He’s a boy who’s made out of sunshine. Golds and yellows and bronze. 

_ You were the sun, and I was crashing into you. _

When Simon was on the ground, bleeding, I thought he was going to die. For real. Simon’s had countless false alarms and brushes with death, but that night…

I really thought that he wasn’t going to make it out alive. I didn’t think we _ both _were. 

And for a split second, there was a feeling of relief that rushed through me. For once, I had entertained the idea of living in a world without Simon, of living in a world without this constant struggle. 

Because living in a world where Simon isn’t alive is better than the thought of living without him by my side. Without loving him, without having him love me. 

I still haven’t told him. What he means to me, how he’s everything all at once, how’s he’s too much and yet, just enough. 

“Simon…” I begin to say, but he cuts me off, his voice sharp against my low.

“I think you should stay here, Baz.”

The words feel distant, even though he can’t be more than three feet away from me. They catch me off guard, and I look at him, my jaw tightening. 

“What do you mean, Snow?” I ask, the words sour in my mouth. This can’t be an actual conversation we’re having, we aren’t _ supposed _to have this sort of conversation, and especially not here. 

Simon just looks frustrated, and he runs his hands through his hair, tangling it. He used to do that all the time when we would fight at Watford. 

My breath catches in my throat, and I stare down at Simon. His blue eyes meet mine. My chest stings. 

_ Stay here? _Is he mad? He must be. I would never stay here, not even if I was forced to. America was nice, but it’s a one-time trip for me. I can’t handle the constant heat; I’d be reduced to ashes in weeks. 

But I can tell that Snow isn’t joking around because of the solemn look that passes over his face, and his eyes dim. 

“You fit in here, Baz,” he says, his voice stiff. It doesn’t sound like Simon. 

“Simon, I was _ trying to. _ That was the entire point, remember?” I don’t know what else to say; I didn’t think this conversation would ever come up. It’s ludicrous; I want to tell Simon. He’s being ridiculous. Why would I ever deliberately move to _ America? _Of all places? Simon saw what had happened to me with all of the drastic amounts of sun I got; my nose stayed ashy for days. 

I know Lamb was kind to me and made me feel somewhat welcome, but that didn’t mean I wanted to take up his offer on living in a hotel with a bunch of other vampires. I’d go insane. 

_ And living in America would mean living without Simon. _

I couldn’t live without him. Not after everything the fucking world has put us through, not after I almost lost him 

and he slipped through my fingers. 

_ Not again. Never again. _

“I don’t want to stay here, Simon. I don’t want to live with vampires,” I say, and I go to stand up. Let Snow think I want to move to America, he’s the kind of ridiculous person who _ would. _

Snow heaves a sigh, raising his hands and looking at me. “You’d be happier here, Baz! Why can’t you just admit it already?”  
He’s so wrong. Crowley, he’s wrong. I won’t be happy anywhere, not if I’m not with him. 

“_ Because, _Simon. I won’t be happy anywhere without you!” my voice raises, and Snow sits back on the sand, his face falling. He looks like I’ve just slapped him, and I feel like I have. 

The air is heavy, so heavy and still. I wonder what he’s thinking; I don’t even know what I’m thinking. 

_ Have I passed your test, Simon? Do you finally see? _

Simon blinks, and the silence between us is full of electricity. I think I just broke down the walls between us, and I’m waiting for his response. The air feels like it’s twisting around us, and I wonder if he finally gets it, if he finally _ understands. _

“Baz…” Simon whispers, and I stare at him. I look at him, even though he turns away from me, even though I think I broke something more than just the walls that have kept us apart for months. 

I didn’t mean to. I would _ never _mean to. 

_ Simon _

_ Crowley. _I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to think, I don’t know how to feel. My mouth has gone dry; it’s making my throat itchy. 

I never expected Baz to let down his mask in front of me like that. I never expected for him to break the walls that swiftly, as if they were made of paper, and not concrete. 

I’m not sure if I should get up and run away or to run into his arms. I don’t know if I understand the meaning of his words, and it’s making me more frustrated.  
_ Why can’t I just understand? What are you so afraid of, Simon? Love? Affection? Baz? _

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I can give into him, if I can give into _ it. _  
Baz gave me the ball. And now that I have it, I’m stuck. I haven’t felt this way before; as if everything that matters to me is hanging by a thread. 

I can’t think. I don’t think. I don’t think I can; my mind’s gone haywire, and yet, it feels empty. Hollow. My body feels numb; weightless. As if I’m just an empty vessel that can crack open at any second. I don’t even know if Baz is still behind me; he’s gone so quiet. 

I don’t know how long I’ve been out here, on the sand. Long enough for the sky to have shifted from a light blue to a lilac dotted with pink clouds. _ Sunset. _  
I won’t be happy anywhere without Baz, either. I want to tell him that; Crowley, _ I want to. _

But the words die in my throat. They crumple up inside of me and wither away, and I feel so incredibly stupid.  
I love him. I think I always have. I know that I always will, _ I know that there won’t be a day that goes by that I won't think of him. _  
_ He won’t be happy anywhere without me. _ _  
_ The cynic in me starts peppering my mind with the thought that he’s just lying to me. He deserves so _ much more than me. _

_ He deserves everything. I can’t give him everything; I can’t give him magic, I can’t give him power. _ _  
_ _ Has he really loved me, for me, all this time? Am I really all he wants? Even without magic? Even without being the superhero, without being the chosen one? _

_ Merlin. _  
_ I’d tie our hearts together. _  
My stomach lurches, and I feel like I’m bottoming out. Like I’m centreless. I want to get up. I want to kiss him. I want to feel him against me and I want him to know that I’m in love with him in so many ways I could never name them all.  
I want him to know that I’m his. 

I can hear Baz. He’s a few feet away, but he’s faced away from me when I turn towards him.  
I’m sick of pushing and pulling against him. I’m sick of all of the uncertainty; I’m sick of feeling alone.  
I stand up, and brush the sand off of my jeans. The ocean breeze is cool as it dances across my skin and through my hair. 

I stand up.  
_ Go on, Snow. _

_ Baz _

Crowley, I think I’ve made a terrible mistake. I’ve colossally fucked up everything good in my life; I knew it was only a matter of time before I broke Simon, before I broke _ us. _

I’m turned away from where we were sitting. I’m near the rock where I left my socks and shoes. I want to cry, but the tears don’t come. I guess the years of hiding behind a stiff facade has finally paid off.  
I want to turn towards him; to tell Simon I’m sorry, that I was being irrational.  
“Simon…,” I say, slowly turning around. 

But _ he’s right there. _ Well, a couple feet away from me. And he looks like he wants to attack, and I want to raise an eyebrow.  
“Baz,” he replies. He’s hesitant as he’s walking towards me. I can feel his body heat radiating off of him in waves, and a familiar warmth rushes through me. 

_ Are you finally going to let me in Snow? Are you going to let me have the key to you? _

He’s close enough now that I can hear his heart. It’s racing.  
His blue eyes are staring up at mine, and I go to step back, but he grips my hand and gently pulls. I fall towards him, and he places his hand on my chest; covering my skin in warmth. Crowley, he’s so warm.  
His mouth is slightly parted and he moves his hands until they’re resting on the sides of my neck. His fingers twist into the collar of my shirt. _ Merlin, Simon. Do you know what you’re doing to me? _

He lifts his head, and brushes his lips gently against mine. He seems unsure of what he’s doing, and I’m reminded of our first kiss. Of the fire and smoke and heat, and how he wouldn’t let me go. He stuck to me like our limbs were glued together.  
It takes me a second to respond; I’m still so shocked. I’m sure he can notice, because he carefully wraps his arms around my neck and steps closer so that our chests are pressed together. His nose presses against my cheek, and his heat is warming me through and through, and I want this to last. _ Crowley, _ I want this to last.   
I wrap my arms around him and run my fingers through his curls. Hot hands, hot mouth. Snow has always been a bloody inferno.  
I go to pull away, for Simon’s sake, but he doesn’t let me go. His hands are running over me, leaving little pools of heat in their wake, and I’m expecting him to pull away at any second and for this to be a fluke, because it _ has to be. _ Normally, he would’ve pulled away by now. We’ve crossed that point in which the kiss becomes frantic and heated, and I’m seconds away from losing control.  
He didn’t ask to kiss me. He just did.   
My head is going fuzzy and I know I have to stop. I have to pull away; I have to let Simon go before he decides that this is too much for him and he decides that this isn’t what he wants.   
As I pull away, I gasp for air and press my forehead against his. His skin is warm, and he’s panting. His hands are gripping my shoulders and he won’t meet my eyes.  
“Simon,” I say, softly. I don’t want to scare him off, not again. I want us to have this, just this once. His hands are trembling and he can’t seem to catch a proper breath.  
“Baz, I…” he says, his voice barely there. I swallow, waiting for the blow.   
It would be an honour to have my heart broken by you, Simon Snow.   
He shifts on his feet and his hands go clammy. I don’t move my eyes from his. I haven’t seen him be this nervous in months.   
He finally looks back up at me, and I smile softly. We’re close enough together that we’re almost breathing the same air.  
Simon opens his mouth, as if he’s going to finish his sentence. I can’t lie; I’m half-expecting him to pull away and run.  
But he doesn’t. In fact, he smashes his face into mine and kisses me so deeply that my stomach bottoms out. I’m not sure what he’s doing, what he’s intending to do with this kiss. It’s so intense that I think it might be our last one. It’s a familiar sensation, and I can’t help but feel as if he’s going to leave. 

_ Simon _

I’m not going to leave. I can’t; not now. Not when I’m _ so close _to getting over my fear, not when I’m so close to breaking free. 

I can feel my hands shaking in Baz’s, and his hair is falling into his eyes and tickling my forehead. This..._ This. _

This feels good. _ So good. _I don’t feel this way enough; I barely let myself. I always pull away, I always get too overwhelmed and scare myself off. 

My mind is glazing over, and I’m not trying to think. 

_ Don’t think. _

_ Don’t think that this might be the last time. _

_ Don’t think… _

So I let go. I let myself go. 

My mouth latches onto his and I’m pulling him closer, closer, closer, until there _ is _no closer. His hands are tentative; he’s touching me as if he thinks that I might shatter. 

_ Oh, Baz. _

I wind my fingers into his hair tightly, and lean into him. Baz’s arms gently wrap around my waist, and his hands come up the back of my shirt. Cold. 

He’s always been cold, but I’ve never stopped wanting to make him warm again. He’s always been the kind of cold that lures me in, and it makes me want to draw it out of him. 

_ Baz _

Simon used to be like a wildfire in the wind. Sparks would smart from his skin and embers would drip from his fingertips, and I thought that the flames would consume him. 

I used to think that even though I could control my own fire, that Simon would obliterate me with his. He still has it, I can feel it beneath the surface of his skin when I let my hands go, but it isn’t omnipotent like it once was. It’s calmer, less like rough waves crashing against the shore, and more like a shallow stream flowing steadily. His magic never felt like this. It never felt gentle, never felt contained. It was always wild, doing whatever it wanted to do. Simon couldn’t control it, no matter what he tried. Bunce always had to clean up whatever mess he made.  
The only time Simon’s magic felt manageable was when he let it flow into me. When we were connected by something bigger than we could decipher, when he was able to let some of his power go.  
I felt like I could do anything when Simon let me shoulder the weight of his magic. It was thick and heavy, but _ clean. _ It flowed through me like water. It made me feel like I had grasped infinity and it was taking up all of the space that my chest cavity had to offer.  
Even when I thought that I couldn’t make room for it, I _ could. _Somehow, I could. My organs shifted and made room for it, and in those moments, it felt like I was brimming with more magic than I could ever have on my own. 

His magic was like an open flame, but he never let it burn me. He never let it out of his control, he always knew when to yank on the reigns and pull it all back, towards him. He always knew when to pull the strings inside of him back together again.   
When Simon gave me some of his magic, I was more alive than I ever thought I could be. 

_ Simon _

I keep testing the waters. I know what I want, but it’s like there’s this invisible barrier that I somehow have to break through to get to the other side. 

I’m unraveling in Baz’s arms. I haven’t felt this way…  
I haven’t felt this way since the night that I kissed him for the first time. God, that feels like _ years _ ago. I’ve come close; there’s been moments in between that we’ve shared that have felt like that, but nothing like _ this. _

This feels like having magic again. There’s a warmth in my chest that I haven’t felt in months, and it’s rushing up and through my limbs.  
I used to be so afraid of slipping away. I used to feel like I was, like I was losing my grip on reality and I couldn’t pull myself back in. I was so sick of being dependent on Penny and Baz, even though some days, Baz felt more like a hallucination to me instead of a real person. 

There’s still a part of me that’s terrified of intimacy. A huge part, if I’m being honest. 

The thought of letting Baz have all of me, see all of me, feel all of me…

Well. It makes me feel like I’m choking on the idea.

I can’t hide from him. Not like this, not when my lips are on his and his arms are encircling my back, not when his body is so close to mine that I can’t distinguish my limbs from his. 

He’s too close, and yet, it still feels like he’s an entire world away from me. 

_ My heart beating fiercely in my chest. His hands in my hair, my fingers grasping the collar of his shirt. _

There’s an unexplainable feeling that’s burrowing its way into my limbs, and it’s unfamiliar. 

It’s not like the feeling I get when I want to run and hide. It’s softer, and much less debilitating. It’s turning my blood into honey; thick, heavy, warm. I feel like I’m moving through mud when I hesitantly let my hands cup Baz’s cool neck. His hair slips through my fingers; my heart slips through my chest cavity. _  
_I’m trying not to be overwhelmed. But when Baz’s hands move from my waist to cradle my face, the cold feeling of uncertainty creeps up through my chest, and I can’t help but feel as if I’m drowning. 

_ Baz _

Simon is going warm in my hands. His skin is heating up underneath my fingers, and I gently cup his face and let my fingers slip into his curls. Simon’s hands are gripping my shoulders so tightly and his mouth has gone still against mine. 

_ Simon _

It’s too much. This is too much, Baz is too much. 

I break away. My mouth goes cold with the absence of his and Baz’s eyes are alive with a kind of fire that I don’t recognize. 

“Snow?” he asks, his voice low. I don’t know what to say to him; my brain has gone empty. 

_ I’m sorry, Baz. _

I take a step away from him. He’s looking at me with a glint in his eyes that makes my heart shatter, and I can tell that he’s holding back questions that I don’t have any of the answers to. 

Looking at him like this... with his black hair flowing in the soft breeze, his shirt unbuttoned a few inches down...

It’s all too much. I thought I could handle it, I really thought I could.   
_I'm doing this for him, _I tell myself.   
_I'm doing this for him, for him, for him..._

I’m not running because I don’t love him. Honestly, the love I have for him runs so deep that it goes beyond just my head or my heart. It goes beyond the both of us...

….Which is why I have to let him go. I have to let him be free. 

_ Baz _

Simon’s eyes are dark with sorrow. He stepped away from me so suddenly that I almost fell forward into the sand. 

It’s hard to look at him when he looks like this...when he’s dull and pale…

_ Simon Snow, it hurts to look at you. _

He’s less than a foot away from me, but his eyes are gone. Empty. His usual vividness is sucked dry.  
_ Do you still want this?   
_I know I didn’t ask the question when I should have. When we were surrounded by fireflies, standing in the open field, standing under a sky that went on and on for miles, when we were both running off of excess adrenaline and affection. When I was bursting at the seams with my magic, and it felt like nothing could touch me. 

I knew I couldn’t bear to hear his answer. I was scared that it would break me in so many ways, that I wouldn’t be able to be mended. 

_ Do you still want this? _

I can’t make him mine. I can’t take away his sadness, I can’t fix him. In a way, I knew it would all end like this. With both of us on the opposite sides of a line, whether or not we should be. _  
T_ here’s a fine line between love and hate.   
I can’t make him love me...  
_You were the sun, and I was crashing into you...I would wake up every day and think, this will end in flames…_  
_ I choose you, Simon Snow. I chose you once, and I won’t stop choosing you, even if you don’t choose me. _  
I choose you. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!  
first off, i just wanted to say that I finished WS about three or four days ago and let's just say that I'm scarred. forever. the book was so good and i wanted to cry like the entire time.  
once i finished the book, i was so desperate to write a "what happens next?" fic, so here it is. lol, i'm so sorry it's so angsty but i couldn't help myself. i really thought that this was the most accurate way i could portray simon and baz in those moments. that's why this is so angsty ahahaha. i'm sorry.  
i hope you all enjoy! feel free to like and comment any critiques or praises! i love when people give me advice, it makes me feel like i'm improving as a writer :)  
thanks again!


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